Harry and Malfoy and the Stuff That Happened
by Sploogal
Summary: Not particularly canon-compliant post-Voldie. Harry has been sneaking out after curfew. The Daily Prophet is publishing pictures of him and Malfoy getting drunk together all over the world. What's going on? And when did Malfoy get a puffskein? On Hiatus.


**Disclaimer: I don't own it. Sue me. Better yet, bugger off you nosy sodding lawyers.**

**A/N: Yes, Sploogal has returned to the realm that is online fanfiction. For the people who have read my stuff before, thankyou for sticking with me. You guys rock my mismatched socks. Also, be warned that updates will probably be as sporadic as ever. I will try to get the next chapter up soon, RL allowing.**

Ron was awakened suddenly from a rather pleasant dream involving large fluffy clouds and Quidditch balls by the sound of a heavy work-boot being thrown to the floor. He groaned and pulled a pillow over his head as the second boot joined it. Following this came unsteady sounding footsteps and clumsy rattling in the bathroom. The footsteps came back into the dorm and the rattling continued louder and more obtrusively, bare metres from Ron's ears. It was times like this he hated dormitory life. He glanced at the illuminated numbers floating above his bedside table. 1.58am. With a loud groan of protest directed towards he noise-maker, Ron pulled his blanket over his pillow, which was still clasped tightly over his head, and concentrated on returning to sleep.

Sleep, though, was apparently not meant to be. Both the pillow and the blanket were wrenched from his grasp just as he was about to drift off again. He grappled blindly at the air in front of him, landing a solid punch on what felt like a bony shoulder and earning a soft 'oomph' from his attacker.

'Ron!'

He knew that voice. That was Harry's voice. His best friend had disturbed his sleep. This had better be good.

'Lumos.'

Ron squinted in the dull light provided by Harry's charm. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted, then glared grumpily at his friend. 'It's the middle of the bloody night, Harry! What do you want?'

Harry seemed unperturbed by Ron's attempted death-glare. 'Where's my invisibility cloak?'

Ron blinked. 'You're sneaking out. Again.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'No kidding.'

'You woke me up for this?' Ron turned on his side so that he was facing away from Harry. 'I dunno where your bloody cloak is. It's not like you can't get around without it, anyway.' He heard a soft growl of annoyance behind him. He frowned, sniffing the air, and turned back to Harry. 'What's that smell? Have you been drinking?' he demanded.

'So what if I have?' Harry asked, sounding not the least bit guilty.

'Nobody would sell you booze. You're underage!'

'Well spotted,' Harry said dryly, handing him back his pillow and stumbling out of the dorm.

Ron let him go. He'd badger the details out of Harry at a more decent hour. For now, he was content to drift back to a blissful state of unconsciousness.

/ /

It was a quarter to nine when Ron woke up the next morning. He panicked for a moment, thinking he was late for classes before remembering that it was a Saturday. His favourite day of the week. He smiled and stretched slowly before climbing out of bed. Harry's bed was already made, and the only person left in the dorm was Seamus, who was snoring softly in his corner. Ron dressed quickly, not wanting to miss breakfast. Harry had always been an early riser, and seeing his bed in such a neat state as opposed to the bombsite his own patch of the dorm resembled was nothing new either. He made his way down to the Common Room, hoping to see Hermione there, but was out of luck - the Common Room was completely devoid of all life. _Odd_, Ron thought, and continued to the Great Hall. On his way there, he passed numerous groups mostly comprised of girls giggling and blushing in the corridors. It was no different in the Great Hall. Groups of people were gathered at the house tables, crowded around what looked like copies of the Daily Prophet. Ron spotted Harry sitting at the end of the table with his head in his hands and Hermione speaking rapidly into his ear with a very disapproving look on her face.

'What's happened?' Ron asked, piling waffles onto his plate.

Hermione gave Harry one final disapproving glare and wordlessly handed Ron her copy of that morning's Daily Prophet. Ron's eyes widened as he flicked through the first few pages. Harry, drunken and at ease with various scantily-clad girls, Harry clinking bottles with Draco Malfoy, Harry and Malfoy being thrown out of bars that, if the captions were to be believed, were located in 7 different countries all around the world. Harry wearing clothes that could get him suspended from Hogwarts - and the list went on.

Ron looked over at Harry. 'Bloody hell, mate! You told me that you and Malfoy were working on that potions assignment Snape gave you!'

Harry flinched. 'Don't talk so loud,' he croaked. 'We were doing the assignment.'

'Then what's all this?' Hermione demanded.

Harry shrugged. 'Extra credit.'

Hermione snatched back the paper. 'Extra credit, my foot! _Hogwarts Students in Drunken Brawls_!' She glared at Harry for a moment and took a deep breath. 'You could have been killed last night! Have you completely lost your mind? In case you hadn't noticed, most of Voldemort's supporters are still at large, and Draco Malfoy's father is a one of them!'

Harry had shrunk back from Hermione over the course of her mini-rant and was making a very obvious effort not to cradle his head in his hands. 'Hermione, can you save the lecture for when it's not so painful to listen to?'

Hermione exhaled loudly and turned back to her breakfast, leaving Harry to doze with his head resting on the table.

/ /

That night, Harry pretended to go to sleep. At Hermione's insistence, Ron had stayed up until Harry had supposedly fallen asleep, to ensure that he wouldn't sneak out again. As soon as he heard Ron's snores, Harry got out of bed, pulled on a pair of robes and his invisibility cloak and made for the door. Ron grinned as he snuck out after his friend. Harry had never had much of a sense of strategy.

He met Malfoy in the Entrance Hall.

'Nobody followed you then?' Malfoy whispered as Harry stuffed the cloak in his bag.

Harry rolled his eyes. 'What do you think?'

'Well, let's get going. I was thinking we'd start with Bulgaria tonight.'

'Bulgaria it is,' Harry agreed quickly.

'Did you bring it?' Malfoy hissed.

Harry snorted. 'Of course I brought it. Do you think I'm stupid, or what?' Malfoy opened his mouth to reply, but Harry cut him off. 'No, no, don't answer that. Let's just get out of here.'

Observing from the shadows, Ron couldn't quite make out the object that Harry pulled out of his pocket. Malfoy had produced a vial of potion from which they both took a generous swig, and after a little fiddling with the mysterious object they appeared to melt into the air, leaving Ron gobsmacked and alone in the hall.

/ /

'You must've seen wrong,' Hermione insisted for the fifth time since Ron had dragged her aside the next morning and filled her in on Harry's activities. 'People don't _dissolve_ into air. It must've been a portkey.'

Ron glared, sick of the argument. 'I know what I saw, and it was no damned portkey!'

'Well, that's not important anyway. We need to find out what Harry and Malfoy are up to before Harry winds up in the Hospital Wing or dead,' Hermione said.

'Yeah, there's no way that nasty ferret's not up to something,' Ron muttered darkly.

Hermione's reply was cut short as Harry fell through the portrait hole. He clamoured to his feet and made his clumsy way towards Ron and Hermione, tripping over everything in his path. When he finally sank into the couch opposite the one that Ron and Hermione were sharing, he keeled onto his side and lay there with his eyes closed.

'Harry,' Hermione began cautiously, but was cut short again, this time by Ron.

'Were the bloody hell have you been, Harry? It's nearly midday! You've been out, Merlin knows where, with _Malfoy,_' he spat the name like it was all manner of unholy, 'all night and all morning, and now you come staggering into the Common Room and, and, and what? What in the name of Merlin's ovaries is going on?' He was red faced and shouting by the end of it. A few first years on the other side of the room shuffled cautiously towards the portrait hole.

Harry groaned and rolled over in reply.

'Harry?' Hermione prompted, a little more gently than Ron.

'Erngh,' Harry moaned.

'Are you sick?' Hermione asked. 'Or hurt? Should we call Madame Pomfrey?'

'No,' Harry said hoarsely. 'I think I drank a bit more than I should've.'

Hermione pursed her lips angrily. 'If you were drinking at all, then yes, you definitely drank more than you should've.'

'Hermione, please, give it a break,' Harry pleaded weakly.

Hermione huffed, disgusted, and stormed up to the girls' dorm.

Ron sighed. He helped his friend sit up and, slinging one of Harry's arms over his shoulder, half-carried him up to their dorm and dumped him on his bed. 'You'd better have a bloody good explanation for this, mate,' he growled.

The hung-over sod curled into his blanket and immediately fell asleep.

**So, the first chapter. Let me know what you thought of it. Remember, the more reviews I get, the more motivated I will feel to write.**


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